


Tommy Knows: "Honor Thy Father"

by ThomE_Gemcity_06



Series: Eloquence of a Secret [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon-divergence, Angst, Drama, Episode: s01e02 - “Honor Thy Father”, Friendship, Gen, Secrets, Tommy Knows!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 23:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10954968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThomE_Gemcity_06/pseuds/ThomE_Gemcity_06
Summary: Tommy finally manages to wring some truth out of Oliver—is it more than he can handle?





	Tommy Knows: "Honor Thy Father"

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, or it's characters.   
> Tag: Season 1, Episode 2 - "Honor Thy Father"

**aRRoW**

Tommy knew a fake-drunk Oliver when he saw one.

He was as shocked as the rest of the crowd, but surely less distressed than the rest of the Queen clan at the spectacle of a drunk Ollie Queen at a dedication ceremony for his dead father. The surrounding press ate it up and so did the raised cell phones. It would be trending on the internet within the hour, surely; and be the main topic in the local news.

He had a sneaking suspicion it might have to do with what the news was calling, The Hood. Oliver's secret little doppelgänger.

He rushed after the man. "Oliver? Oliver!" he grabbed the man's shoulder, stopping him. "What the hell was that? What are you doing?"

Oliver shrugged from his grip and kept walking. "Go away, Tommy." He said tightly.

Tommy had no other choice but to follow. "No. Not until you explain what that was." They left the plaza behind.

"I don't have to answer to you," he retorted.

"Well, you sure as hell have to answer to somebody. And seeing as nobody else knows your secret, it looks like that's going to have to be me." Tommy said in kind. "Otherwise, the press back there might come in use—and then you'll have to answer to everyone!"

Oliver gave a growl of frustration and spun on the other man. "When are you going to stop threatening me with that?"

Tommy refused to give ground and step away, chest-to-chest. "Well, I would have said I'd kick your ass, but I've accepted that it's not a viable option for me anymore."

"I like that option," Oliver disagreed.

"Yeah. Not going to happen, I like my face just the way it looks, thanks." Tommy said drily. "Now—talk."

Oliver inhaled deeply, fists stuffed into his pockets. He was the one that took a step back. "I can't do what I need to do if people take me seriously."

"And what exactly is that you need to do?" Tommy asked innocently. "You haven't exactly told me." Oliver opened his mouth, but Tommy spoke the words for him, annoyed: "The less you know. Yeah, yeah. I'm getting pretty sick of this run-around of yours. If you want this—whatever it is—to go on, you're going to have to let me in."

He blew out a breath and said instead. "I can't run QC and save this city."

"Are you kidding me? Have you never read a comic before? You need to re-read-up, buddy. You could learn a little something about this whole"—he twirled his hand—" _vigilante_ thing."

"I'm not a vigilante," he hissed, shooting a inconspicuous look around. They might be outside, but right now, they were essentially alone.

"Right." Tommy snorted. "So, you didn't take care of Adam Hunt as a 'civilian' instead of turning whatever you had on him, into the police? I believe that is the very definition of vigilante."

"We are not talking about this." Oliver growled. He turned and walked away. Tommy let him go, for now.

"I'm not letting this go, Oliver!" Tommy called after him.

"I didn't expect you to," he uttered, annoyed, but he wasn’t sure at who more—Tommy or himself.

**X**

"So, what changed your mind?" Tommy asked, flopping onto the edge of Oliver's bed. "God, I haven't been in here in a while." He remarked, looking around. "It's like a clean time capsule."

"That's what happens when you die for five-years," Oliver shut and locked his door firmly; no one was home, but he didn't want to chance it.

"Well?" Tommy prompted.

"Something Thea said to me. And talking to my father," he admitted quietly, going to his locked desk drawer.

Tommy understood that; he had many a great revelation when visiting his mother's grave. When Oliver turned back to him, it was with a small, bound notebook held tightly in his hands, but he didn't move. Tommy didn't say anything this time and waited for his friend to speak.

Oliver took a deep, slightly shaky breath. "My father didn't die on the Gambit like I told the court; he made it to the raft with me and the boat's captain. There wasn't enough food and water for the three of us to survive long enough to make it land, but maybe one person could. So my father made a decision. He killed the captain, gave me this notebook, told me he failed this city and that it was up to me to save it—and then he shot himself in front of me."

"Shit, Ollie." Tommy uttered in horror, carding his fingers roughly through his hair. "I can understand you not wanting to say that in front of your mom and sister, let alone complete strangers, but," he shook his head, "Oliver, you have to know... That’s crazy! For him to lay something like that on your shoulders--"

"The whole time I was there, I didn't really think about it. I just didn't want to die. But when I finally made it home—I realized that this whole time, these last five-years—were preparing me for this." He said passionately, "Because, because my father is right—this city is rotting and the decay is all the names listed in this book." He held it up.

Tommy stared at him silently, just waiting for it to sink in.

"Tommy?" Oliver asked. He shifted his weight like he wanted to step forward, but stopped himself, realizing that it was probably best to give his friend space just now. He'd been fighting this, Tommy knowing, and now he knew why. He cared what his best-friend in life thought, that's why he had kept the mantra of the-less-you-know because the more Tommy knew, the more his mission was held in the balance of Tommy's response.

"And there's no other way?" Tommy finally spoke, his voice a whisper. "You can't just give the book to the police and--"

"If they were really doing their jobs," Oliver interrupted, "This book wouldn't be filed with names. I'm not saying it's their fault, they're good men and woman, but sometimes the rules of law just don't get it done. As the Hood, I don't have that restriction." He taped his chest with the notebook.

"You mean kill." He said baldly.

"If I have to." Oliver agreed.

"Oliver!" Tommy cried desperately, standing. "This can't be--"

"It's the only way." He said firmly.

"And you won't stop? Not even if I ask?"

"I'm sorry, Tommy." Oliver replied solemnly. "Prison and death are my finish line."

Tommy suddenly spun, putting his back to Oliver and a wordless sound left his throat, like a mourning animal. His shoulders were hunched and the blond could see the slight shake of his frame. Not able to stand the distance between them when his friend was clearly in distress, Oliver put the notebook in his pocket and closed the distance. He put a warm hand on the back of his shoulder; it was covered in blood but still managed a kindness he was still surprised at.

Tommy spoke, "Somehow, you survived five-years of hell. But now you're back, safe—and you want to jump right back into the fire?"

"It's not about me, it's about this city. It's about fixing my father's mistakes." He tried to explain. "Do you wish I didn't tell you?" Oliver asked quietly.

"Yes. No. Both." Tommy admitted. "I wish that things could be back to the way that they were, before the Gambit. But if I didn't know, then you would be in this alone and that's even more frightening."

The weight on Oliver’s chest lifted that he hadn't even realized was there, squeezing his heart as he waited for his friend's response. He wasn't sure he would have been able to take it if the first person who had met the new Oliver Queen, detested him.

"Y-- You actually did it!" Tommy laughed incredulous.

"W--" Oliver started, before Tommy was suddenly out from under his hand.

Tommy rolled to the other side of the bed like a kid and picked up the comic that Oliver had left out on his nightstand. "You actually read up on your vigilante lore!"

"Shut up," was muttered with a tinge of embarrassment.

"No, no, it's cute." Tommy grinned at the spectacle.

Oliver glowered. "I just found it when I was going through some of my old stuff."

"Right." Tommy's tone clearly expressed his belief. "I still have all mine. I'll let you borrow some of the new ones."

"You're going to let me borrow your comics?" Oliver said in amusement. "We suddenly turn fourteen again?"

"Hey, some things you just don't grow out of, man." Tommy flopped onto his bed and started to flip the comic.

"Make yourself at home," Oliver swept his arms in friendly sarcasm.

"Thanks. You know your room was always more home than my own." He said. "Where's your lair?" Tommy suddenly wondered, looking up from the comic.

"My what?" Oliver was caught off guard.

"Lair." Tommy repeated. "Come on, I don't see you hiding your bow and arrows under your bed." He stopped and gave the blond a look at Oliver’s silence. "Are you kidding me? You kept them under your bed?"

Oliver rolled his eyes. "It was only for the first couple days before I could find... better storage."

"Ha!" Tommy exclaimed. "I knew it, you _do_ have some secret lair." He scooted to the edge of the bed. "Come on, what is it, like... a cave? a clock tower? some abandoned Queen owned building?"

That last one was right on the money. "I am not taking you to my... lair." He said the word like he was the rock and the word was blood.

"What? No way, man!" Tommy exclaimed, standing. "You gotta, buddy. I'm like your unofficial side-kick now. I'm your secret-keeper on this, so it's like nothing's really changed. It's gotta be one of the perks of knowing a vigilante—the lair!"

"Oh, brother." Oliver muttered as a chuckle teased the corner of his lips, running a hand over his hair. This was going to be trouble, and yet his heart felt lighter.

**aRROW**

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think of this second installment? Hang on, let me huddle in a corner... okay, go ahead. I can take it! :)


End file.
